Two Bowls of Rice
by mentalsunflower
Summary: Renge finds herself falling in love with the type of man she has never even imagined into the equation... funnily enough, he feels the same. How is that possible?


**A/N: **Basically I was watching the episode where Renge has to try and help Nekozawa transform, and I thought they'd be such a great pair! You know, how Renge loves the Ultimate Guy but Nekozawa is such a creep. xD This one-shot is just an interesting sequence of events between the two of them... hmmmmm...

**Disclaimer: **Ouran belongs to Bisco Hatori!

* * *

How was this fair?

Renge always thought she would fall in love with the perfect boy: handsome, tall, dark-haired, mysterious, a tragic past… everything.

But no.

She had to fall in love with _him_.

"Renge-san?"

She's at the host club. They're having a meeting, but she's sitting on the floor, cross-legged, sorting through Kyoya's immense collection of host club photos. When she hears his voice she freezes. At the same moment of dread there is a tiny tinge of excitement, because after all—she _is _in love with him.

Dammit.

Looking hesitantly over she sees him peeking out of the door, face half-hidden in shadows, that stupid creepy puppet dangling from his hand. When she sees him she feels an invisible hand clutching at her heart. These feelings were coming right out of a shojo manga! Argh, she had been so close! Stupid Nekozawa.

"Go away," she orders in a stern voice, but softly, so their interaction doesn't attract attention from the club. They're busy arguing over something anyway. She's just scared of getting the twins to notice her. They'll never leave her alone if they find out.

"I just want to talk," he whispers, interrupting her thoughts. His words bristle against Renge's nerves.

"How come everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like something a murderer would say?" she spits out, and storms out of the room without another word to Nekozawa, leaving the half-sorted pile of photos lying on the ground.

* * *

"You picked up the photos?!"

Two days later Renge has stormed into the Black Magic Club room. Nekozawa jumps; ushers the others out with a wave of Bereznoff. They all scuttle out the back way, and Renge can hear shrieks from the girls at the host club as the black magic students make their way through the room to reach the hall.

"Hello, Renge-san," Nekozawa says politely. He can feel the beads of sweat forming beneath his wig.

"Why did you touch my photos?" she snaps, storming closer to him with a finger pointed threateningly at him. "Kyoya-sama told me that he saw you gathering them together! You ruined my sorting! You touched my things! You—You—"

Nekozawa feels the sweat growing. "S—Sorry," he mumbles, his puppet fumbling awkwardly on his hand. "I was just… I thought you might…"

"Speak UP for once, you sissy!" Renge yells. Her voice scares Nekozawa, and he starts back. "God, you're always mumbling, and you're so creepy, and—" Nekozawa finally realizes her face is bright red. He feels his own cheeks warming up.

"I'm really sorry," he says again, this time a bit louder to prove that he really can speak up. "It was messy, that was all. I thought I was helping you."

She glowers at him, hands on her hips. "Well, next time—don't!" she finally musters up. Nekozawa nods.

"All right, I won't." And the tone in his voice is final, and Renge realizes it, and an expression of confusion and maybe hurt passes through her features, but then she just frowns and storms out. He hears her mutter something about it being all wrong, and he can't help but agree.

After all, who knew he'd fall in love with someone as psychotic as she was?

* * *

This time she comes from the back door, the host club room, and he's standing right in the entrance, hand hovering over where the doorknob would have been. The two stare at each for a brief second, and they both wonder if the other was thinking about them, if they were both just about to open the door see each other, if—

"You're all wrong," she hisses, eyebrows furrowed, and Nekozawa feels a familiar ache of pain. Hadn't he gone through the same thing with his sister? But oh dear, this time it was also so much different.

"I've heard that one before," he says with a wry attempt at humor, and he steps back, making room for her. But she stays in the open doorway, as if refusing to step into Nekozawa's dark chamber of a clubroom.

She blushes before she speaks, but meets his eyes squarely. "You're supposed to be handsome."

Nekozawa was a little stung by that one. "I am," he mumbles in a quiet sort of voice.

"And _not _mumbly," she orders him. Nekozawa clams up. "Tall," she continues.

"I'm taller than you," he says. "Albeit not by much, but it still counts for somethi—"

"Dark-haired." Her eyes narrow. "I know that wig is just a ruse, and I don't appreciate it!"

Nekozawa glares at her, sick of her harsh words, and of his own accord rips the wig off and throws it on the ground. "All right, fine, I have blonde hair. _Sorry_." His last word is dripping with so much uncharacteristic sarcasm that Renge looks surprised, and then… intrigued? What a weird girl.

"Well, and besides the hair, you need to be mysterious!" she continued loudly.

"I am!" Nekozawa says, and finds that he is yelling right back at her. "I wear a long cape!" He tugs at it. "I'm mysterious! I hide out in a dark room! I do magic that no one understands! No one knows anything about me!"

She stares at him, eyes wide. "Well—but—a—a—tragic past…"

He frowns. "You were here when I needed help with Kirimi. You know about my—er—tragic past." Saying it sounds ridiculous, but he does sort of have one, doesn't he?

"Well…" Renge's voice drifts off, and she's staring at his shoes. Finally her eyes find his eyes. "Your stupid puppet!" she hisses, pointing threateningly at it, and then Nekozawa does something he never thought he would do. He takes Bereznoff off (carefully, of course), and steps closer to Renge. Too close. So close he's almost in the light. And he lifts his now Bereznoff-free hand to her face and cups her cheek with it.

"There." And he's so proud of himself for being this brave, for doing something like this, and didn't Renge-san like this sort of stuff anyway? He has often heard her scream about bowls of rice and whatnot through the walls. Does this count as something?

It must. Because now she's blushing and looking embarrassed.

"Well—well—"

"Why do you keep trying to find excuses?" he asks quietly, seriously praying to whatever black magic god out there that he doesn't sound like a 'murderer'. "We love who we love." And at these words her face goes bright red and she steps back, and Nekozawa knows with those words that somehow he has screwed something up.

"I could never love a person like you!" she yells, and slams the door in his face. He stares at it, aghast. He even took off _Bereznoff _for her! But of course. Had he really expected anything else?

He's about to turn around, find the wig and the cape and the puppet and go hide out in a dark corner somewhere when he hears the door creak open behind him. He whips around to see Renge's face through a small opening. She's watching him carefully.

"Renge-san—" he starts, but she holds up a hand to interrupt him.

"Good job," she tells him solemnly with a serious expression. "I could eat two bowls of rice." And then she shuts the door again.

Nekozawa finds himself chuckling throughout the rest of the day.


End file.
